Monumental
by NCR Ranger
Summary: Rangers lead the way


There's no argument about it: Although it is infested with lawyers, Washington DC is also a city brimming with fascinating history.

If you've ever been there ( though, if you live far away, such as in Washington State, you will have to fly over ), you will know this to be true. DC is home to more than a few age-old monuments to pivotal moments in US and global history, and some of the most dynamic men our nation has ever had the privlage of having as Americans in equal measure. Far removed from the wild style and nature of California, there is a dignified class to how DC appears, which is quite befitting, as it is the seat of power of the world's sole superpower.

One that has shaped the world, and always been led and by capable men. As it always must be. And their country hasn't forgotten all they have done. A country is defined by the men it honors, after all.

There is, for just one example, the Lincoln Memorial, depicting the tall, bearded President himself, seated sagely behind a row of stately columns. Or, another, the Jefferson Memorial, looking as if its come right out from ancient Rome, with its perfect dome, and ring of more collumns, with the Declaration of Independence signer in the center of it, standing proud. And, one can hardly forget or ignore the the Washington Monument: a looming obelisk, surrounded by stars and stripes flags. It was there in honor and memory of the father of the nation: the one and only George Washington.

DC was essential to the foundations of the USA; past, present, and future, quite possibly. It was the center of its leadership's past, and the home of the memories of the men who'd not only created the nation of the US of A, but just as importantly, those who had fought its battles, and fought to defend her, and her intrests.

Tributes to heroism. A timeless concept that exsists in all realms, wether that's in Star Wars, or the beaches of Normandy. Something displayed by soliders on battlefield, or by the citizens they left behind.

The World War 2 memorial, just to name one of those conflicts. ( In truth, it was hardly the only case of the fighters of the US Armed Forces displaying uncommon valor, but frustratingly, its arguably the only conflict that the masses know best )

An array of arches, each adorned with a wreath, and inscribed with the name of a US State that sent its men to fight- all 48 of them, at the time. A ever bubbling fountain fills its center, and along one of its sides, are 4,000 gold stars, all standing for the lost American troops who didn't come back. while fighting to defend the free world from great evils. The last conflict that was seen as fighting for a clearly defined cause.

Still, it represented the other half of what the monuments and memorials to the deceased great names of America were: That when a great state sends its men to battle, when they go fight, when do a good service to their nation and distinguish themselves, then America owes it to herself, and to them, to honor that sacrifice, if they die, or thier living legacy, if they survive.

That was why, a new monument now existed in the city, to a new cast of heroes. Ones who'd been witness to one of the most outstanding feats of arms in US history. It shook the foundations of the country, and it was something that would live in the memories of every American of the time, for the rest of their days, and would be taught long after them.

For once again, America's capital had been under attack. But, not by the British this time.

Russia. The Bear of the East had thrown its might against the Eagle. Not any meddling in its affairs, no, that's not Russia's way. They didn't have the hammer on their flag during their USSR days for nothing. They were one of the only nations on Earth that could argue they matched the USA in terms of martial strength.

Now they brought that strength to bear

Legions of Russian troops had sieged Washington DC, and the whole East coast, seeking revenge for the massacre at Zakayev International Airport that they belived America had carried out ( which was completely false, of course. It was a RUSSIAN, Vladamir Makarov, who'd been behind it, but that truth was buried for now ). They descended on US Soil en masse, a Red D-Day.

US forces had fought back tooth and nail, needless to say. America hadn't been invaded in over a century, and the last ones who had discovered the hard way the cold hard truth: America is easily one of the hardest nations on Earth to assault. Its too big, and its population too able and ready to resist.

Still, the Russian juggernaut had been a force to be reckoned with. Russian troops poured into DC in a tide of T-90 main battle tanks and AK-74 rifles. The defending US garrison stood their ground as best they could, but they were outnumbered, severely. Bolstered by teams of Navy SEALs, and Army Rangers, the Army put up a valiant fight, keeping the Russians at bay while the denizens of DC ( including the lawyers ) were evacuated. They fought on afterwards, determined to hold the city.

But, there were just too many. Russia had commited her full force to this invasion, and the USA's own divisions were spread thin all along the coast. They responded as fast as they could to the assault on DC, moving as many of those divisions to the city as they could, but for the men fighting there right at the moment, their postion was untenable. The Russians were rolling them back. Paying for every inch in blood, lots of it, but their advance was unstoppable.

The Lincold Memorial. The Washington Monument. All of them were blasted, shot up, and left shredded from the battle, as much from stray shots from both sides, as much as from deliberate targeting from the Reds.

They were _taking_ the city. That's when it happened.

Nobody on either side knew where it came from. Nobody anticipated it. Later, much later, it would become known that a team of international commandos ( known as Task Force 141 ), operating outside the chains of any one military's chain of command, had commandered a submarine that was under the control of the Ultranationalist Russian government that had caused the massacre at the Moscow airport, and was now invading the USA. They'd fired one its nuclear tipped missiles into the high atmosphere, then detonated it.

Right over the city of DC. The EMP wave that came from it, affected the US east seaboard all at once. Cities all along its length, from the forest of high rises of New York, to the palm beaches of Fort Lauderdale, lost all power. Everything, _everything_ , in that entire region, that used electricity, was taken offline.

That included, all of the Russian Army's tanks, thundering through DC. All those T-90's, BMD-4s, and BTR-94s, who'd been carrying the Russian advance on their backs with their raw firepower, were all of a sudden nothing but paperweights.

Useless. They couldn't move. They couldn't open their hatches, or use their radios. They were sitting ducks, utterly helpless. Russian Ki-28 attack helicopters dropped out of the sky like metal rocks, smashing into the streets and ground left and right.

In the confusion, the Americans pounced.

Yes, they were affected as well, of course. What vehicles they'd had- not many to begin with- were also offline, and they couldn't speak to their infrantry forces that were all over the city, with radios dead. Effectively, they were back in time to 1814: DC was under attack, they had to rely in runners and signals to communicate, and on top of all that, a storm had rolled in. The sky was covered in darkened clouds, and rain fell in sheets reducing visibility by half.

That didn't stop the US troops. Especially the Rangers.

Counterattacks began all over town, as the Americans planted C4 on the disabled vehicles, assaulted occupied buildings, and took the fight to the invaders everywhere and anywhere they could. They knew the city better than the Russians, and allthough their enemy was still a dangerous and formidable force, even without their fleet of vehicles, the Americans found a way to turn the tide.

Soon, some of them mounted an attack on the White House.

The symbol of America, as much as the Statue of Liberty. It was not just a building; it was the crown of America's leadership. While her armed forces were her glory, and her strength, the White House was the other half of that: her steady command of her lands. Every American knew this.

Including one squad of Rangers.

As American forces ammased around the White House, they attacked it as hard as they could. The Presidential residence, once burned by the British ( how dare you, Brits ), was a fortress, courtesy of the Russians. Bristling with machine guns, it was a thorny stronghold to take. But, it was still the _White House_. The Americans wouldn't let up.

In the chaos of the clash, as the main force of the ad hoc American counterattack hit the front, that squad of Rangers breached one of the wings. The Russians, occupied with holding the front, coulnd't cordinate thier defense, as the crack US Special Ops men battled thier way through the massive House. Room by room, the Rangers took out the enemy, with guns, with grenades, with knives, and in some cases, thier hands.

They let nothing and nobody stop them. They were a knife in the side of the enemy.

Not even the news that the US STRATCOM ( Stategic Command ) was planning the unthinkable: a _nuclear_ strike on DC, rather than let it be held by the Russians. A flight of B-1 Lancer supersonic bombers were on their way, to release B83 bombs that would atomize the entire city, and everything and everyone in it.

The Rangers fought on anyway. The Russians did everything they could to stop them. The city was about to be wiped off the face of the Earth. There was no time.

They fought on.

Being udated constantly on the approach of the bombers, the Ranger squad leader, Sgt. Greg Foley, led his men on, though the smoke and Russian filled rooms, toward the roof, aware that their only chance to stop the bombing was to signal up there with green smoke. Behind them, more US soliders had flooded into the breach they'd created, and were grappling with the Russians the squad had been able to bypass. It was pure chaos; the Blue room, the Oval office, and more sections of the famous House ended up pockmarked by bullets as the fight burned through it.

Still the Rangers kept going. Some of them had fallen, and most of those still standing had been wounded, but they killed everything in their way, and didn't stop advancing.

Bursting out onto the roof, with burning, smoking buildings lighting up the horizon everywhere, and with less than a minute left, the sergeant was joined by two of his Rangers- Corporal Sean Dunn, and Private James Ramirez, who'd fought with him to reach this point, and who he trusted explicitly. The men of the 75th Regiment tore the flares out of their uniform pockets, lit them, and waved them high.

Green light. The bomber crews, told to watch for that as a signal that the attack was not needed anymore, spotted it at the last second.

They veered off, and the Rangers- Foley, Dunn, Rameriez, thier unifroms covered in soot and dust, spotted with blood, their weapons still hot from firing, and tired from the near ceaseless combat, finally let themselves, just sit.

There was still the rattle and bang of gunfire from elsewhere in the House. From further out in the city, they could hear more of it, as the remnants of both sides continued to slug it out in the ruins of DC.

But, they had saved the city.

Not just from anihilation, but from subjgation as well.

* * *

Today, if you go to DC, a city of lawyers ( they were brought back in the aftermath, rather than being sent to California ), and very expensive ( and relaxing ) hotels, take a moment out of your impossibly busy schedule ( that's the thing about life these days: we need to stop working SO hard ) to visit some of those monuments and memorials.

Besides the ones dedicated to conflicts and men you might know best, there is one that has not been there before.

Its across from the White House, amid those trees, and winding paths.

Its three men, over a dozen ft tall, even more thant the trees,standing in a ring, backs in, facing out. They are American Army Rangers, dressed in full combat garb, with M4A1 carbines up, and braced, as if ready to be pointed at an oncoming enemy. Their expressions are watchfull, and wary, not tense, but alert.

They stand on a raised platform of pure black marble, with an array of flowers of all varities surrounding it. Placed among the flowers, are US flags, and poles with US helmets mounted on them. Some of the helmets have holes shot through them.

Wrapped around the base of platform, is a mosaic, depicting US troops breaching the White House, and Russians falling back in the face of their assault.

An obelisk-esque tower rises just high enough to go taller than the helmeted heads of the men, in the middle of them. At its top, its wings outstreched as if it is about to take flight, is an Bald eagle. Its beak is wide open, as if screaming in defiance.

Underneath the edges of the top, are the golden heads and chests of some of America's finest fighters from her past: John Paul Jones, George Patton, Davy Crockett. All prominently displayed, and looking out approvingly at the new band of heroes who stand beneath them.

Just beyond the boots of those heroes are their names, in gold lettered tabs, for all to see:

Sergeant Greg Foley, US Army Rangers. A leader among men.

Corporal Dunn, US Army Rangers. An able second, and a skilled navigator

Private James Ramirez, US Army Rangers. A true rising star.

A quote from the Sergeant is there at the base:

" We fought to live, and we foguht to win. Failing that, we fought to take as many of them with us as we could. It seems in the end, we did all of that. "

And an inscription, posted before them, to be easily read, as Winston Churchill put it:

" Never in the field of human conflict

Was so much owed

By so Many

To so few "


End file.
